The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the worn wooden tables of The Elfsong Tavern, where the hum of conversation and clinking of mugs created a symphony of life. Baldur's Gate was buzzing with its usual nighttime, and the tavern was no exception. You stepped inside, your heart pounding with both excitement and fear. The city was unmistakably Baldur's Gate, but something was different. The clothes, the faces, the ambiance—it was all from a time long before your own.

As you took in the sights and sounds, you felt a peculiar sense of deja vu. It was as if you had been pulled back through time, the magic of the city weaving its spell around you. You didn't know how you had ended up here, but one thing was certain: you needed to understand why.

You made your way to the bar, your eyes scanning the room. It was then that you saw him, sitting alone at a corner table. His presence was magnetic, drawing your gaze like a moth to a flame. His pale, elegant features were framed by tousled white hair, and his piercing red eyes watched the crowd with an intensity that sent a long shiver down your spine. He was both familiar and foreign, a face you knew well yet had never seen in this context.

Astarion.

In your own time, he was a loyal companion, someone you had grown to trust and care, maybe even love. But here, right now in this time, he seems different—probably still under the cruel claws of his master, Cazador. He was hunting, luring innocent souls into his web. Your heart ached at the thought, knowing the darkness that still held him captive.

Summoning your courage, you approached his table. His eyes met yours and you frown because he does not recognise you. He smiled instead, a predatory grin that was both charming and dangerous.

"Good evening" he said smoothly, his voice a velvety purr. "Care to join me for a drink?"